


Not Even an Alpha?

by TheOriginalAdvocate



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta/Omega, Class Issues, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28849248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOriginalAdvocate/pseuds/TheOriginalAdvocate
Summary: Jamison Fawkes, known to Junkertown as Omega-JF-3, finds himself to be the property of a beta militia man. Now he has the chance to learn about life before Junkertown and what it's like to be normal.
Relationships: Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes/Roadhog | Mako Rutledge
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Not Even an Alpha?

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this fic deals with topics such as body horror, sex slavery, and rape. If any of these make you uncomfortable or trigger you, please exit promptly.

Growing up, Jamison was told that being an omega, especially one belonging to a high-ranking alpha, was a blessing. His parents had told him that he would surely find someone with whom he would bear children. When they sold him to the Queen (technically speaking, though he was referenced as "property of Junkertown Omega Holding A" on his collar and bracelets), they said it was for his own good. He wouldn't have to go through the stress of matchmaking or worry about having to settle for a beta. They failed to mention that they were selling him to what was essentially government sanctioned sex slavery.

Like many in his position, he'd bought into the idea that one day a big strong alpha would take them away and all of their problems would be solved. He'd eagerly stood in the line with the others, hoping he'd be picked and taken away to the luxuries of running water and consistent electricity. When one of the others was picked over him, he'd clapped and cheered for them, silently wishing he was in their place.

As the years passed by, he'd found his youth slipping away and what little beauty he could've possibly held disappearing with it. He lost his right leg not long after his 17th birthday in an explosion during a raid on Junkertown. His right arm was cut off when he was 20 as punishment for fighting back against a Junker who forced himself onto him. Now he found himself 25 years old, scarred by the rough conditions of his life, and ultimately looked over by every alpha that came looking for another status symbol. He'd heard stories of what happened to unclaimed omegas in Holdings once they passed 30, but he preferred to push those far out of his mind and instead hold onto what little hope was left.

* * *

The day held a simple routine. A guard would come in and wake them up at 8 o'clock sharp. The omegas in the Holding would strip down to nothing and line up single file. They would walk to the showers and dispense their clothes from the day before in the laundry chute. They would shower and proceed to their daily examinations, which involved a doctor making sure all of their parts were healthy and they were still fertile ("One day we won't have to worry so much about the males," he'd often say). If they passed their examination, they would dress in what was provided in their lockers. After they were dressed, they would eat a meager breakfast and be sorted to their groups, which dictated when they would be in the market for sale. Group 1 was the most coveted because it meant they had the highest chance of being picked.

Jamison never was assigned Group 1. He always found himself stuck in Group 5 with the rest of the older omegas, but sometimes was in Group 4 if he was on his best behaviour the day before. _Today_ , he swore to himself, _isn't gonna be any different. I'll be stuck with the rest of my sorry lot and still be here tomorrow. Probably for the rest of my life._

He felt someone nudge him in the side. "Hey, Jamie."

He looked to the speaker to see Sophie, someone he was starting to consider like a younger sister. She'd come in the year before after being orphaned during a raid. The poor thing was only 16. He smiled at her. "Hey yourself."

"Ya think I have a chance of getting in Group 3? I've been working real hard at cooking and I think I can make it."

He chuckled. "With your meat pies? I'm willing to bet on Group 2 even." She was pretty, for sure. Most of them, himself included, envied her for having mostly flawless skin, except for the thick and long scar that ran across her back. That often held her back.

"No talking!" The guard yelled from the front of the room. "Would Omega-JF-3 come forward?"

Jamison felt his body tense up. He was the oldest of them all and the one with a knack for getting into trouble. Maybe the rumours were true. He shakily stepped out of line, his wooden peg leg scraping audibly on the floor. The others were nervously eyeing both him and the guard.

"Today's your lucky day," the guard sneered. "You've been chosen. Special treat for the militia."

The militia hired by the Queen to help protect Junkertown was mostly made up of alphas. Being chosen by one was behind only a royal guard and the Queen herself in terms of status. His heart pounded in his chest, threatening to break out and splatter on the floor. There had to have been a mistake.

"Go get your things. You'll be escorted out after."

He looked to Sophie, who smiled sadly and mouthed _I'll miss you_. He nodded to her and made his way back to the sleeping quarters to gather what little things he possessed.

Upon arrival, the guard who would escort him grabbed his shirt and yanked him towards her. "You may think you're special because you've got some fancy army man to fuck you and fill you up with his kids, but remember what you are. You're a disgusting little rat."

He recoiled at her strong alpha scent, something he hated but hoped he'd get used to eventually. She released him and he made his way to his bunk. All he had to his name was a small bag that held three orange marbles in different sizes, a worn copy of _We Are in Harmony_ by Tekhartha Mondatta (which wasn't originally his but he was planning on trading it for a CD player), and an empty hip flask.

"Hurry up!" The guard huffed.

Jamison looked around. He hated this place but it had been his home for almost 9 years. "I've got everything."

"Good. I'm sick of lookin' at you."

"The feeling's mutual," he muttered to himself.

* * *

Jamison kept his eyes to the ground as the man scrutinised him. He knew this was one final test to be passed, though it was rarely spoken of. He hated being looked at like a piece of meat. It made his blood boil.

"You sure this is the one you want, Rutledge? Kinda mangey dontcha think?"

A different man, a very large man at that, grunted in approval. "He'll do fine."

The first man mumbled something Jamison didn't catch and tossed a few coins to the guard. "Enjoy. You've earned it. I've got to get going."

He assumed that the large man, Rutledge, was going to be his alpha. Why him? The shoes meant he had to be some form of military. Maybe he was militia?

The further both the guard and the first man went from him and Rutledge, the more the stench of alpha musk faded away. Jamison's heart dropped to his feet. He tentatively looked up. "You're not an alpha, are you?"

The large man shook his head. "Too old for that."

It's not that he was expecting himself to be worthy of the Queen herself, per se, but he always hoped he'd be picked by an alpha with good status that would let him live a comfortable life. He could lounge around and be dressed in clothes that weren't patched up in exchange for having sex a few times a year. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Instead, he's found himself to be at the mercy of an old beta. "Why me?"

"Why not?"

"Have ya actually seen me? Mate I dunno what they told you but I'm not exactly worthy of the Queen."

He shrugged. "You're almost 30."

"Yeah, exactly!" Jamison felt like his ego was being dragged through broken glass. "I'm almost expired!"

"Do you want out of there or not?"

He bit his lip. This was his one (and only!) shot at getting out of there. Even if it meant low status. "Fine."

The man nodded and grabbed the chain attached to his collar. It was customary for omegas to be led away and their collars cut when arriving at their new home. The collar wasn't necessary once they were marked with their alpha's scent, but Jamison couldn't help but wonder what would happen with a beta. "My bike's over here. Got a sidecar for ya."

Everything within Junkertown was walking distance, even to the walls of the old structure the Junkers repurposed. This meant they'd be leaving and going out to the wastelands. He shuddered at the thought of what was out there.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothin'. Well, it's just that... I've never left before. Lived my whole life here."

Rutledge shrugged. "Sad life, then."

Jamison opened his mouth to say something else, instead deciding to stew over those three simple words. He let Rutledge strap him into the strange wagon-like thing and put a helmet on. "Sure this is safe?"

"Is anything?"

**Author's Note:**

> To help clarify some dynamics:
> 
> Alphas–top dogs. They hold most of the power and wealth, but only make up a small percentage of society. They mostly hold positions in military and business, as well as Junkertown's royalty. Both males and females can impregnate female Betas and both male and female Omegas. Female Alphas can't be impregnated. They exist due to radiation from the Omnium causing higher levels of testosterone and male genitalia in females.
> 
> Betas–the majority. They function as a middle class and are the largest percentage. They hold common jobs such as teachers, scientists, chefs, etc. Beta males can impregnate Beta females and both male and female Omegas. Beta females can be impregnated by male and female Alphas and Beta males. They're what we consider "normal humans", though they have a lower reproductive rate.
> 
> Omegas–reproductive system of society. Originally created through gene manipulation to increase fertility and allow males to give birth. Both males and females are the most fertile, with a conception rate of near 95% during heat and 50% out of heat. They're treated as a status symbol, with having a harem of Omegas being seen as something to be envied. Can be impregnated by both male and female Alphas and Beta males.
> 
> Expireds–unclaimed Omegas past age 30. Their function ranges from prostitutes to sanitary workers to caregivers for the children of Alphas with a large harem.
> 
> This universe's A/B/O dynamic exists only in Australia after the destruction of the Omnium caused the Outback to turn into the irradiated desert that exists in the original Overwatch universe. No where else has the A/B/O dynamic.


End file.
